


Grounding You

by MrsAlderaan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Pureblood Hermione Granger, Slytherin Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-16 14:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsAlderaan/pseuds/MrsAlderaan
Summary: Hermione Granger may be muggleborn, but, when she learns to manipulate ley lines, she's instantly destined for greatness. Follow her journey through the snake pit as she discovers what is means to be a ley mistress in the cut throat and political world of Slytherin House. Can the kindhearted muggleborn we know weather the storm or will a new Hermione emerge from the shadows?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those stories that nagged at me for awhile before I started writing it. I'm not very far along on writing it at this point (June 2017), and I can't promise a particular posting schedule. I hope you enjoy!  
> Thanks for reading.  
> ~MA

Mr. and Mrs. Granger always knew that their daughter was special. As a child as young as two, she would do the strangest things, like summoning her favorite plush toy to her from across the room or creating moving images of the stories they read her out of smoke. Of course, there were other things, too. Small things that, damn it all, only happened when she was really desperate for something in her life. Like the time that she cried for over an hour over a cookie her mother had refused her before Helen had walked out of the room to care for the cat only to return to find Hermione eating the same chocolate chip cookie she desired- perched atop the refrigerator. However, both of her parents agreed that the strangest thing happened on Hermione's fifth birthday, on a family trip to Stonehenge, which was Hermione's request, of course.

The Granger's were more than pleased with themselves during the trip. At first, they were skeptical that a child so young would really enjoy the tourist attraction, but they were quickly proven wrong. Their daughter was intuitive, much different than most children her age, and it took little more than the growing light in her eyes to prove to them that she was more than excited for the educational journey that she would be in for today. Once they arrived, she was so enthusiastic that neither parent could wrangle their child fast enough before she made a beeline for the enormous stone structure nestled on the grassy hill. Instantly, they chased after their Hermione only pausing when they noticed something strange come over their daughter only steps shy of her destination. They watched in horror as their daughtered lifted into the air for an endless moment, catching the attentions of several bystanders. Then, just as quickly as she'd been lifted from her feet, Hermione fell to the ground, bumping her head on the earth below her.

Shaking themselves out of their stupor, both parents finally bolted towards their unconscious daughter just as a bystander walked over to kneel at her side. Little did the Granger's know at the time, but he was subtly performing diagnostic spells, ensuring that the young witch was healthy. When the parents arrived at Hermione's side, the dark clothed wizard looked up, scaring the Granger's with his near permanent scowl. "It seems that some things will need to be explained to you folks sooner rather than later." He drawled in a low baritone that filled the parents with foreboding.

With the discovery of Hermione Granger's connection to the ley lines, her life was changed irrevocably in that moment. Of course, the Granger's had to be told six years earlier than anticipated that their child was a witch, and she would one day be brought into a secret society that lived among them every day. Furthermore, the authorities at the Ministry of Magic impressed upon them that they would have to keep a close eye on Hermione's proximity to ley lines until such a time as she could control her newfound gift. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, however, knew that this was something much bigger than their desire to keep their daughter close. They were just dentists, and didn't even know what a ley line was. How were they supposed to protect their daughter from something they couldn't even see or understand? With heavy hearts, they decided that the best decision for their special little girl was to allow her to be brought into the society that could see to her training and protection from this unforeseen danger, and, thus, one Severus Tobias Snape found himself the adoptive father of a uniquely gifted five year old witch.

* * *

One year later, Severus Snape's prayed for patience as his strong willed six year old daughter whined from beside his cauldron. "I don't understand, Father! I'm special. I have this gift that allows me to manipulate the ley lines, but you won't allow me to practice."

The dark robed wizard swung around, allowing his intimidating physique and steely demeanor to do the majority of the work for him. "My dear," He whispered, allowing his resolve to soften when he saw the fear sparkling in her expressive amber orbs. "You are still young, with so many years of learning and growth ahead of you in order to test your limits. But, there is danger in working with the ley lines, which I'm trying to protect you from. For one thing, your magical core is not yet stable. Every time you have used your abilities thus far, you have risked losing your magic entirely. You're so special, Hermione, I simply can't have you risk it for the time being. And don't forget that there is the fact that even the most experienced ley masters and mistresses in history have had a trusted partner to help ground their power." He paused for effect as his words sunk into his daughter's hard head. "Now, we're done talking about it. Get over here and peel this boomslang skin for me. You know that the familial bonding potion is most effective when we both brew it together."

* * *

 

"Five years." The ten year old Hermione whispered as she sat at the table in her father's private laboratory. "I can't believe it."

Her father turned around after having doled out two doses of the blood red, effervescent potion. "Are you ready to officially be my daughter, Hermione?"

Hermione chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. "Remind me again why this is so important?"

Severus placed both of the goblets onto the table and looked at his beloved daughter with utter devotion in his eyes. "This potion will permanently bind you to my bloodline. Legally, you will be considered a half-blood like me, and, if anybody should say otherwise, you will have the right to dispute such comments with a duel or in front of the Wizengamot. Additionally, it will bestow you with a particular… familial resemblance, so it will be impossible to mistake you for anything but my own biological offspring."

Hermione's features were serious now as she pondered the goblets sitting between them. "Well, no time like the present to drink a potion that took five years to brew."

She lifted her goblet and watched, mesmerized, as her father lifted his own and spoke the ritualistic words. "I, Severus Tobias Snape, take you, Hermione Jean Granger as my own blood daughter and heir in both right and magic."

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, bind my blood and magic to the line of my chosen father, Severus Tobias Snape." She responded, taking his hand as they both downed the pleasantly cherry flavored liquid. Hermione, upon finishing her goblet, promptly passed out as her body began to submit to the changes the bonding potion would force upon her. Before Severus succumbed to the effects of the potion, a golden hue began to settle over Hermione's body as she unconsciously tapped into the castle's ley lines. However, Severus was unable to act on his protective instincts as the potion thrust him into darkness.

* * *

 

Severus Snape was the first to awaken after the administration of the potion, and he was sorely disappointed to find himself outside of the confines of his private laboratory. Blinking the blurriness from his eyes, he found himself to be situated on a decidedly uncomfortable bed in the hospital wing. He rather blearily turned his head to either side, finding his daughter just an arm's reach to the right still dozing. More surprisingly, though, he found a score of Ministry officials milling about the hospital wing supposedly awaiting the awakening of the Snape's. Severus slowly pushed himself to sit up on the bed and drawled. "To what do I owe the pleasure of the Ministry's interference in my child's binding ceremony?"

Albus Dumbledore stood in the far corner with a look on his face that seemed to say that he desperately wanted to the answer to the same question, but he remained silent, watching with poorly concealed interest. After a moment, the auror who seemed to be in charge stepped forward and introduced himself. "Hello. My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt. Head Auror Moody apologizes for his absence today, but he has found himself tied up in other matters."

Severus moved himself weakly to the side of the bed in order to finally get a good look at his daughter. Her once bushy brown hair was now the darkest ebony color and shown with a health it never had before. Without the frizziness to contend with, her hair had easily gained several inches in length, falling to the small of her back elegantly. When his eyes moved to her sleeping face, he felt instantly that something was off. His cheekbones didn't have that angular, aristocratic softness to them, did they? And, surely, he was never that tall at the age of ten. "What in Merlin's name went wrong?" He found himself saying aloud, absolutely flabbergasted by what he was seeing.

Auror Shacklebolt stepped closer, holding out his hand in an effort to assist the magically drained potions master. "Well, we have a theory, but we were waiting for both of you to awaken to confirm it, Professor. Would you mind either rousing her or carrying her? We've already been at this vigil for several hours."

Severus looked to the windows and noticed that the light filtering through them was dim at best and glowing with a reddish tint. "I'll carry her. She's probably magically drained still; I think I saw her tap into Hogwart's ley line after falling under the effects of the potion."

"You would be correct, Professor. That's the reason for our theory. We think that your daughter may have managed an extraordinary feat of accidental magic today, and, even though we could have confirmed our suspicions without your presence, we felt it more appropriate that you be with us for this discovery since it will affect you as well." Kingsley Shacklebolt enthused as they made their way up the many flights of stairs that led them to the Headmaster's quarters.

When they finally made their way to the statue of the eagle, it sprung forth without so much as a password, as if the castle understood the importance of their timeliness. Severus, who'd woken up into this strange dream of a reality thought it strange, but was far too weary to question it at this point. He hefted his daughter more comfortably into his arms and made his way up the stone steps. The door swung open before he'd touched it and he silently thanked the castle for not forcing him to perform some sort of acrobatics while holding Hermione in his arm in order to use something as simple as a door knob. Severus stepped into the Headmaster's office and waited for the rest of the group to file in behind him. Suspiciously absent was one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, but, at this point, the dreary potions master was categorizing everything weird as decidedly normal.

"Ah! There it is." Kingsley exclaimed after having spun a complete circle, searching the room for some unknown magical artifact. Severus turned to find what Shacklebolt was looking at, and his eyes were drawn to a picture of his own face, and, below it, his daughter's image rested. Upon closer inspection, Severus noticed calligraphy underneath each image. His name read Severus Tobias Slytherin, and his daughter's was listed as Hermione Jean Slytherin. Severus felt his eyes grow wide and his breathing hitch at the revelation, and he silently thanked his lucky stars that the wary aurors were hovering so closely as, for the second time in several hours he found himself drawn into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 1

Hermione had argued with her father that it was a stupid idea for someone who lives in the castle to travel all the way to London in order to spend a day riding on a train filled with dunderheads, and, although her father was inclined to agree, he’d won out the battle by explaining that this was a once in a lifetime experience- to travel via the Hogwarts express to school for the first time. It’d been nearly two years since the Slytherin line had been resurrected during their familial binding ceremony gone wrong. Her father had offered her the out to begin school a year early, since she turned eleven only nineteen days after term began, but, oddly enough, Hermione the hard headed know it all herself had argued against it. “I don’t want special privileges because I’m a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, and I most definitely don’t want to be known as the Headmaster’s spoiled daughter. No thank you, I’ll wait the year.” She’d argued.

Hermione shook her head ruefully as she looked out the window of the Hogwarts express. Next year, she swore, she would not be travelling to her own home via train. She laughed at the utter bizarreness of the entire situation. Of course, it was in this moment, laughing at her own private joke that the group of three opened the door to the carriage. “Oh, hello, there.” The strikingly blonde boy exclaimed. “Is this car taken?”

Hermione gestured to the available seats languidly. “Of course not. Please, sit.” She took the few moments that the boys took to shuffle into the cabin to appraise them. The blonde one who spoke first was clearly the leader. Although he was shorter than the others, they seemed to defer to him for decision making. The next boy was of African descent, his smile brought levity to the room in an instant. She could tell that he was used to commanding a room of peers with his charm. Last, was a taller boy with tanned skin, tousled brown hair and piercing azure eyes. His were the type of eyes that made you want to spill your secrets in a most embarrassing manner, and Hermione was thankful for her years of practiced occlumency as she looked into them.

“My name is Draco Malfoy, and these are Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” The blonde introduced, holding out his hand for hers.

When she slipped her hand into his own, he drew it to his lips formally. The other boys followed the gesture in turn until there was nothing left for her to do but to formally introduce herself. “The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure. My name is Hermione Slytherin.”

In an instant their eyes lit up in understanding. “Ah, so you’re the one that caused the big stir a couple of years back with the Hogwarts ley lines. Neat little trick, that.” Blaise spoke up, causing her to blush.

“Yes, that was me. Although, I'm not really supposed to talk about it.” Hermione smirked, glancing out the window as the train began to lurch forward. The boys looked at one another uneasily before standing, pressing their faces to the glass and waving excitedly to their parents.

Once the boys finished their final goodbye, they settled down in their seats with nervous smiles on their faces. “Hermione, have you been to a sorting ceremony before?” Blaise asked while pulling at the hem of his finely made robes.

“Of course. I’ve lived in Hogwarts since I was five.” She replied cooly. “And, I’m not telling you a thing.”

Theodore leaned forward and forced his bottom lip into a pout. “You can’t do that! It’s so unfair…”

Draco turned his head mockingly towards his friend. “Don’t be a fool, Nott. The reason you haven’t been told anything is because that damned hat casts a spell on whoever is stupid enough to listen to it. Afterwards, you can’t say much of anything about the sorting to anybody who hasn’t been to see it.”

“How do you know so much about it, then?” Nott asked cockily.

“Because I’ve ready Hogwarts: A History. Idiot.” Draco answered hotly.

Hermione chuckled at their banter mirthlessly. “Well, you’re not wrong. You’ll just have to see for yourselves.”

* * *

Hermione had to admit that she enjoyed her trip to Hogwarts, especially the view of the castle from the boats on the Black Lake. Now, she and her classmates were being led to a chamber off of the great hall by the caretaker- Filch. All along the way, there were whispers about Harry Potter being one of their classmates, but their group was immediately silenced by a Professor addressing them from the front of the line.

“Ah-hem.” She coughed. “My name is Professor McGonagall, and I will be your transfiguration teacher during your time here at Hogwarts. I’m also Deputy Headmistress, so it is my job to ensure you are all appropriately sorted into your Houses tonight. I would go into further detail, but Headmaster Slytherin prefers to explain during the announcements. So, if you’ll all follow me and watch your step, let’s find out where your home will be for the next few years.”

As they walked into the Great Hall, there were gasps from all around the crowded first years, but Hermione looked distinctly bored. She’d lived in the castle for the majority of her formative years. Hogwarts, although wondrous, had lost some of its mystique. The group was brought to a halt, and Headmaster Severus Tobias Slytherin stood. “Good evening. I know you’re anxious to eat, so I’ll be brief… As per usual, the dark forest is forbidden- for student safety. In addition, as we have been unable to find a competent DADA professor this year, I will be teaching until the post has been filled. Thus, your new potions mistress will be Professor Slytherin who passed her mastery exam over the summer holiday. Now, let the sorting begin.”

Blaise nudged her arm as the sorting began. “Oi, you didn’t tell us that you were a bleedin’ professor.”

“Only in potions and only until the DADA post is filled. In the meantime, there will be a modified schedule so that I can attend classes.” Hermione responded- not looking away from the sorting.

“Like you’re not already eons ahead of us.” He grumbled.

She smiled softly. “I understand theory in everything but potions. I’ve been allowed a wand outside of Hogwarts only thanks to my mastery.”

“Right.” Blaise mumbled as her name was called.

Hermione walked up to the Deputy Headmistress and stood beside her. “I claim my right as the heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Slytherin to join the house of my namesake. I hereby waive my right to be sorted.”

There was a long pause as the reality of Hermione’s words were processed by the crowd before the first hesitant claps began from the Slytherin table, which were quickly taken up by the rest of the conglomeration of students. With a sweet smile, Hermione marched towards the table. The remainder of the sortings went by in short order with Blaise Zabini being the last student to be sorted. Afterwards, the welcome feast began.

“So, since you’ll be teaching a class, what are we supposed to call you, Hermione?” Theodore asked between bites of mouthwatering roast chicken.

“Master Slytherin is the most universal. It could be used for both a professor and student. However, outside of the classroom, I am perfectly fine with you using my given name, Theodore.”

“Well, if we’re going to be on a first name basis, please call me Theo. Theodore is my father.” Theo responded without a beat.

“So, tell us more about working with the ley lines. It’s nearly a lost art. Near impossible to have an affinity for them these days.” Draco urged.

Hermione hesitated. She wasn’t allowed to speak about the accident that had made her a celebrity, but her father never forbade speaking about ley lines at all. “Well, I discovered my gift for working with them entirely on accident. I was five and my family visited Stonehenge for my birthday. I was so excited that I ran towards the monument only to black out halfway there. That incident is the entire reason I am where I am today.

Hermione looked up from her plate to find that the majority of the Slytherin table was hanging on her every word. “We later found out that the place I was born had five intersecting ley lines. We’re not certain if it was a coincidence or not, but, maybe we’ll find out one day.”

“What do they do?” Cassius Warrington asked from beside Draco.

“They’re useful for all types of magic.” Hermione responded. “They can bind and strengthen wards, transport people and objects, and are even used for religious rituals. Europe hasn’t had a Ley Master or Mistress for quite some time, so I’m sure we’ll have to do some work to uncover forgotten knowledge as well.”

The group continued asking questions like this until the end of dinner. By the time the inquisition was over, Hermione was doggedly tired, barely managing to pick up her feet enough to make her way to her bed in the Slytherin common room. When she got there, she didn’t even bother to change her clothes, simply spelling her curtains shut and silent with a couple of warding spells. With a yawn, she let sleep claim her.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione was slated to teach potions all day. As part of the abbreviated potions schedule, this would allow her to attend her remaining classes and make up for those she’d missed. So, she woke with the sun and the sound from an alarmed wand before dressing in her finest robes and pinning her mastery emblem on them. Sluggishly, she made her way to her office where she summoned Bigby, her personal elf.

“Yes’m, mistress Hermione?” He asked with a bright, crooked smile.

“Good morning, Bigby. Could you please bring me a cup of earl gray, a bowl of porridge, and some fresh fruit?” She asked wearily.

“Of course, miss. Right away.” Bigby enthused.

A few minutes later, the elf reappeared with her food. “Thank you, Bigby. Now, I’d like you to take these galleons and go get yourself a treat in Hogsmeade. I don’t want you to get me anything. Choose something for just you to enjoy.” She carefully spoke, making sure that Bigby wouldn’t feel the need to punish himself during his task.

Bigby nodded almost enthusiastically before disappearing. When she’d first begun her monthly ritual of ‘paying’ her elf, he’d all but refused, fighting the payment tooth and nail. Now, she could tell that he looked forward to his well earned reward.

“You’ll spoil him if you continue that habit, daughter.” Hermione jumped at the sound of the unexpected intrusion, accidentally causing herself to drop the fruit she’d had speared on her fork.

“You know how I feel about house elves, father.” She responded with the signature family smirk pulling at her lips. “If I must have him, then this is the only moral outlet I have. I will not be a slave owner.”

Her father rolled his eyes at her, but said no more on the subject. “If you require my assistance today, call on Leomund and he will know what to do. Understood?”

“Yes, father.” She answered unerringly. The request was a reasonable one, so she wouldn’t complain about his babying of her. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, neither of them particularly good conversationalists during the morning. Shortly thereafter, the first students began to filter into the room, and the headmaster nodded to his daughter before sweeping out, black cloak billowing behind him. She dearly hoped that she would not have to ask her father for assistance with any older students who saw fit to be fussy about the Headmaster’s eleven year old daughter teaching them.

As the seventh years found their way to their seats, a few of them pointed, nudged, and guffawed loudly. Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall, and, precisely at the top of the hour, locked and warded the door, posting a missive written in her own hand on the door with a sticking charm.

Please report to the library and write a 1 meter parchment on the importance of timeliness in potion making. Do not be late next week, or it will be 3 meters.

Potions Master Slytherin

She read the missive aloud as she did so, and a few of the students who were laughing earlier were now silent. Attendance was taken while Hermione leaned against the edge of her desk.

“Since I am a Hogwarts student, I don’t expect you all to call me professor. However, I request you call me Master Slytherin in class as I have taken and passed the potions mastery exam. Understood?”

Not a soul even moved to speak, and she smiled brilliantly. “Now, since I am already aware of your standings in the class and the state of your education thus far, we shall begin where you left off last term. Tell me, did anybody read ahead in the textbook over their hols?”

Cassius Warringtron raised his hand, and she called on him to speak. “We’ll be learning about potions with longer brew times and delicate intricacies like felix felicis, polyjuice, amortentia and veritaserum.”

“Correct.” Hermione answered. “However, we will not be doing that today. Today, you will be reviewing a skill that you will need for your NEWTs. I would like you all to take out a parchment and write for me from memory the instructions and ingredients for as many potions as you possibly can.”

The students skeptically pulled out parchment and she began to hear the sound of quills scratching on paper. After only a few minutes, most students were done writing with only one or two of the twenty of them still scribbling away. She waited for them to stop before she spoke again; she wasn’t waiting long. “By a show of hands, how confident are you that you can complete even one simple potion without instructions?” A few hands tentatively raise into the air. “Leave them up if you can name even one ingredient in polyjuice potion.” About half remained in the air. “Two? Three? Four?” By now, only one hand remained in the air. “Mr. Flint, go ahead and list them for me.”

“Uh, lacewing flies, boomslang skin, a bit of who you want to turn into, and, uh, leeches.” Marcus Flint answered.

“Very good, five points to Slytherin. I’m here to make sure that you all are prepared for your NEWTs this year, and this is the first step. You will need to be able to brew at least one potion without the use of a textbook, and you will not be informed in advance which one it is. For those of you considering a mastery, you will need to brew a far more advanced potion from memory as well as its antidote. Now, with this knowledge, you can all talk amongst yourselves to figure out the recipe, but, in the future, be prepared to work alone. We will be making a simple calming draught today. Oh, and be careful of the ingredient closet. I accidentally on purpose mislabeled a few things recently. Ready? Go.”

The students began to confer with each other while others began to sort out the ingredients. Hermione chuckled as she watched a few students hovering over a parchment nodding and scribbling away. She stepped over to her desk and lit a fire underneath her standard pewter cauldron, wordlessly filling it with water with a wave of her wand. She began to brew the standard calming draught using the teacher’s cupboard stores. Hermione smiled when a few students in the class recognized that she was brewing along side them and began making notes based on her actions.

An hour later, Hermione was walking from cauldron to cauldron with varying levels of success. She’d purposely removed ingredients that would cause explosions from the cupboard, but it didn’t mean that some of the students hadn’t managed to create lethal poisons or a cauldron full of black sludge.  Finally, she found a potion that was almost the perfect color blue. Unfortunately, it looked like it had been over stirred three or four times.

“Mr. Warrington, this looks like it’s almost perfect. Would you like to prove to me that this is a right and proper potion?” Hermione quietly asked the much taller student, looking him in the eyes with her piercing grey ones. He simply nodded before she handed him a small vial to fill. He did so, handing it to her silently, but she pushed it back toward him. “Drink it.”

Hesitantly, he brought it to his lips before nodding to himself and downing the brew. Almost instantly, he began to feel the effects of the potion take their effect. “It feels… different… weaker than usual.” He described.

She nodded, her brows pulling together while considering her reply. “Yes, that’s due to over stirring the potion. When the instructions say two turns clockwise to one counterclockwise for only one minute, they mean it. Bubotuber pus is a very finicky ingredient. The more agitation, the less effective it is. Ten points to Slytherin for the only successful potion in the class.”

Hermione stepped back towards her desk and spoke to the class. “As for homework, I will not be assigning any practical homework as I myself am a student. However, if you would like to succeed in your NEWTs, I suggest you revise all of your previous potions books with a fine toothed comb. All of the brews and techniques you’ve learned will be fair game  on the exam. We’ll meet again in one week and be brewing something from your new potions book. Do be sure to review beforehand. Class dismissed.”

* * *

Hermione was resting in the Slytherin common room after a long day of first through seventh year classes. She had a book in hand, but she’d been thinking, looking away from the tomb to gaze into the tongues of fire dancing in the fireplace. It had been a long day, and the second years had tried to give her nothing but trouble. In order to keep her father out of the situation she’d had to start deducting points and doling out detentions. Not how she’d hoped her first day would go. She jumped, snapping out of her trance when somebody sat next to her.

“I’m sorry to have scared you, Master Slytherin, but I had a question that I’d hoped you could answer for me.” Cassius Warrington spoke lowly so as not to bring attention to their conversation.

“Please, outside of the classroom, call me Hermione.” She replied, motioning for him to continue.

“Thank you, Hermione.” Cassius responded. “I’m interested in a potions mastery myself, and I wanted to ask what it might entail.”

Hermione sat up straighter in her seat, tucking one foot underneath her. “First, a potions master will need to sponsor you.” She answered confidently, using her near eidetic memory to recite the information from the Potion Mastery board. “Next, you’ll need to create a potion of your own design or significantly improve an existing one. After that, you must demonstrate a working knowledge of all common and uncommon potions ingredients in a test where you will locate, prepare and bottle a standard brewing closet. Finally, you will entirely prepare a NEWT level potion and its antidote without guidance of any kind.”

The seventh year quietly nodded, looking thoughtful. “I’m not sure I’d be able to convince a potions master to sponsor me.”

“Why not?” She asked bluntly. “You were the only seventh year to create a passable calming draught today. Surely, if this is something you’d like to follow through on, you won’t let that stop you.”

Cassius worried his lip before speaking stutteringly. “H-honestly, I’m supposed to go into the family business, and I…”

“Would rather eat your own hat?” She suggested.

“Well, yes…” He replied.

She turned towards him, squaring her shoulders in his direction. “Then work on your mastery this year. I’ll talk to my father about sponsoring you. I still have a few restrictions on my membership until I come of age, unfortunately, otherwise I’d do it myself.”

“You think he’d do that?” The boy enthused.

She shrugged. “I don’t see why not. If you’re committed to it, then you’d be an asset to the community. Besides, I have it on good authority that the post for Potions Master is open.” She laughed.

Cassius chuckled before asking. “I’m not sure what to create or improve.”

“Don’t worry so much about that part, yet.” She flicked her hand dismissively. “Once you learn more about different potions ingredients, their international substitutes, and more obscure potions, it will come to you on its own.”

Cassisus tilted his head to the side inquisitively, pursing his lips in thought. “Wait. What was your project?”

Hermione looked down, blushing. “It’s in the process of being patented actually. My improvement was an improvement on Veritaserum that can be brewed in a single day and is powerful enough to overcome resistance to the substance. It also only takes a single drop to become one hundred percent effective.”

Cassius’s chin might as well have been on the floor. “That’s… are you entirely sure that you’re eleven?”

“Twelve this month.” She answered smartly. “Cassius, think of my affinity for potions this way… what’s your best subject besides potions?”

“Uh, herbology I guess.” He answered quickly.

“Imagine that  you were forced to give up on potions for years. How much better at herbology would you be?” She suggested.

“But, why would I have to give up potions?” He asked hypothetically, hoping she’d choose to answer.

Hermione leaned forward and spoke lowly. “Suppose you couldn’t work your potions until your magical core stabilized… for your own good… to make sure you didn’t get hurt or lose your magic.”

“Magical core?” He gulped. “Are the ley lines really that dangerous? Even to people who have an affinity towards them?”

She nodded before turning her head to the opening dungeon door where Draco, Theo, and Blaise were running in, catching her eyes instantly before piling onto the couch. “I’m sorry to cut this conversation short, Cassius, but I’m afraid that I’ve been laid claim upon for the remainder of the night.” Hermione apologized to the older boy with a small smile.

“It’s perfectly fine, Hermione. Enjoy the rest of your eventing.” He replied with a small grin before walking towards the dorms.

Hermione turned back to the overly enthusiastic boys who were bouncing up and down on the couch. “I heard that you gave the Weasley twins detention for the rest of the week!” Blaise raved. “Is it true?”


	3. Chapter 2

Hermione sat at the teacher's desk presiding over detention late on Friday night. The Weasley twins were working on their fifth detention of the year , and she was ready to be freed of the duty. Perhaps, she would take Argus up on his offer to run detentions from her classroom. Unfortunately, that would leave the duty of preparing the potions ingredients to her, and she had zero interest in collecting bubotuber pus in her off time. Finally, the clock struck the hour, and the Weasley's began to furiously clean their stations.

"Fred, George… before you leave, may I have a word?" She asked loud enough to draw the attention of both red heads. "I'd just like to say that, as a student, I'm quite fond of your pranks. However, as a potions master, I have responsibilities. I hope you understand why muggle cherry bombs and potions ingredients should never be mixed. Yes?"

Both boys nodded quietly before grabbing their things and moving to leave. "That being said, should you need any ingredients for your less explosive experiments, my office hours are posted on the door."

Two pairs of eyes lit up before they began to talk quickly to each other, walking out the door. Hermione began to gather her belongings into neat piles before organizing them in her shoulder bag. Just as she was about to leave her office, however, her father whirled into her classroom- his atypical black cloak flowing in behind him. "You shouldn't encourage those two, daughter. They barely pass their classes as it is."

"You shouldn't spy on me so much, father." She retorted snidely. "Besides, those two more than pass the practicals in every subject. They clearly benefit more from hands on experience than actual book learning, so why not encourage that tactile creativity?"

"Other than the fact that they will prematurely give your father grey hairs?" Her father asked quietly, dropping his haughty façade. "How was your first week, Hermione?"

She smirked up at the headmaster and stepped closer, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. "I already miss the headmaster's family quarters and my own bedroom."

He pulled her closer in a rare moment of tenderness. "I'm sorry, my dear, and I miss you, too."

"Can we have a cuppa and chat the next Hogsmeade weekend? Like always?" Hermione pleaded, hoping that she could have just a little of her normal life once a month.

"Of course, dear." Severus replied, stroking his daughter's sleek and unruly locks. "Now, I have business with our resident potions master. Do you know if she's in?"

Hermione chuckled and lightly smacked her father as she pulled away, slipping into teacher mode seamlessly. "What is it you need, Headmaster?"

"The Hogwarts governing board is holding a meeting next week in regards to the two open posts for professors this year, and the options for next year. Since you are currently running the potions class, we'd like you to be present."

"Of course, I'll be there." She responded solemnly. "I'm not fired, am I?"

He chuckled. "I will be recommending that Hogwarts use your services as potions master for the year while we train Mister Warrington for the post for next year. In addition, I will be asking to use student scholarship funds in order to sponsor Mister Warrington through the mastery board."

"Oh! Do you really mean it, father?" Hermione enthused, jumping up and down in poorly concealed glee.

"You know I don't joke about such things." He chided. "Would you agree to continue as the potions master for the year?"

"Yes. I think I'd quite enjoy it. She answered flatly. "Besides, I wrote my lesson plans for the entire year."

"Hermione." Severus spoke. "I don't want you to agree because you feel obligated. I want you to choose your path on your own. If you choose not to teach, then tell me as much."

"I enjoy teaching, father. I just… I'm… anxious to explore other endeavors." Hermione's countenance sank.

"We've spoken about this, Hermione." Severus's voice became stern.

"When will it ever be safe, father? I've been using my magic effectively years longer than my peers, and, still, you say I can't."

"Then do the arithmancy equation with professor Vector. You know, my daughter, I would tell you once all is safe. I am only disappointed that you do not trust me and my judgement." Her father admonished before storming out the door.

Tears instantly pooled in Hermione's eyes, and she folded herself onto the potion master's desk, weeping.

* * *

Hermione heard the classroom door open and close with a locking sound before she looked up at the intrusion upon her private moment. "What do you want?!" She howled without looking up.

"Um, hey, Hermione." Draco answered shyly. "I saw your father sweeping out of the dungeons… kinda like my father does when he's angry, and I didn't find you in the common room. So…"

"Thank you, Draco." She answered, trying vainly to hold back a sob. "My father's just…"

"Protective… to a fault." He finished with an impish smirk. "I know the feeling. They try to protect us from everything so hard that they forget that we're our own person with our own goals and ambitions; they tell us to be kids for as long as possible while still forcing pureblood lessons and decorum at us every chance they get. I can only imagine how hard it's been for you what with the potions mastery, suddenly becoming a Slytherin, and your ability with the ley lines."

"I just… Is it so much to ask when I can work with my gift, Draco? We've known about this power since I was five, and still I've never been allowed to use it except on a accident. Now, I'm considered old enough to practice magic and I have a bloody potions mastery, but I still can't use my power with the ley lines? It's just not fair!" Hermione grumbled, angry red lines of tears staining her cheeks.

Draco sat on the edge of her desk before grabbing her chin gently to look at him, using his thumb to wipe away a few more tears. "Shh, Hermione. I don't know how to silence a room, yet, so try to keep it down a touch. Now, tell me what he said and we'll see what we can do about it."

"I'll teach you the spell tomorrow, if you'd like." She responded robotically, without any actual thought before casting the silencing spell.

He chuckled. "That's fine. Now, let me help you, for once."

Hermione shook herself, clearing her head with the gesture. "I… can't."

Draco turned his head to the side, curiously. "Why not?"

"Vow." She answered simply.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione! Your father had you make an unbreakable vow? Over what? Your gift?" Draco nearly shouted.

"He's secretive, my father." She answered mechanically. "But, there is a loophole in the vow."

"And, what would that be?" The boy asked in a tone she'd never heard him use before.

"Can't say." She answered, rubbing her temples. "Draco, I'm treading a fine line here- one that could get me killed."

"Okay... I'll guess then." Draco laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation "I can tell that your argument was over ley magic, so what could it be? Wait… first things first, he's never hurt you, right?"

"No, no. Never anything like that, Draco." She immediately and emphatically answered, her tone and demeanor instantly growing serious- making her seem older than she was for a moment.

"Okay. Good." He replied quickly, hoping to glaze over the subject. "You were probably asking to use your power, but you've always been able to share about that from what I remember. Am I right in thinking that this has more to do with the fact that he told you to do something?"

Hermione didn't move or or breathe for a moment. "I'll take that as a yes." He responded. "So , he told you to figure it out yourself? Or ask for help from someone? Maybe a teacher? Is that too vague?"

"Probably."

"So, he told you to ask for help. Probably from a teacher. Is it Vector? We don't have her as a teacher yet, but arithmancy is really useful for problem solving. Kind of like divination without all that lazy guesswork." Draco pondered aloud.

"Oh, thank Circe. I swear I would've exploded if you didn't figure it out." She paused for a moment, eyes wide. "Please don't tell Blaise and Theo about this."

"Never. I'll make you a vow if I have to." He swore, holding up his wand hand. "You know, I'm actually pretty decent with arithmancy, if you need help."

Hermione bit her lip. "I mean, I guess it wouldn't hurt to set up the formula."


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to try to make excuses... I am in a shame spiral over not having updated this story in so long. Needless to say, life has been busy. Please be patient with updates. They will come. I will not abandon this or any other story I post.  
> ~MA

Draco and Hermione sat in the quiet part of the library near the restricted section at a well-worn wooden table that had two darkly colored knots on one side of its surface. Hermione knew this because they’d sat in the same spots at the same table for the past week. From her time spent at this table, she’d learned which way the grain of the wood laid in and that the woodworker had not stained a small portion of the roughly hewn corner she liked to sit by; this area, she would worry with her fingers when she was particularly deep in thought. The young Slytherin heir had learned so much about this table from her time sitting at it this week that she was considering burning it on principle. Instead, Hermione left her arithmancy equations strewn across the surface, leaning back from her work with a frown.

“We’re missing something here, Draco.” She bemoaned, pushing the papers away angrily and flouncing back in her seat.

Draco glanced over from his equations, raising a chiseled eyebrow in her direction with a haughty look that she couldn’t help but imagine him practicing in a mirror. “We’re only first years, Hermione. You should be grateful that either of us have a working knowledge of the subject to begin with. Normal students don’t even think about arithmancy until it’s an option as an elective in third year.” He chided, looking back to the numbers in front of him and scratching away with his quill. “You could always go ask Professor Vector for help us, like your father suggested.”

Hermione sat up stalk straight, eyes practically bugging out of her head, shaking it quickly and fervently. “No. No-no-no-no-no. I will not break down and ask for help with this.” With that, she pulled her parchment closer to her before dipping her quill in black ink and continuing her work.

* * *

Hermione was close to pulling her messy black locks from her head, holding back unshed tears of frustration. It had been two weeks, and the two determined Slytherins still had nothing to show for all of their work. There had never been a problem like this that Hermione had been unable to solve given enough hard work and determination, and, frankly, she would NOT ask an adult for assistance with this stupid equation. She would figure it out on her own with or without the assistance of Draco Lucius Malfoy, who’d just blown up at her for supposedly pushing him too hard on helping her to solve the problem. Hadn’t he offered to help her in the first place? Where was that supposed Malfoy loyalty when the going got tough?

Slowly, Hermione scooped up her work from her usual table, neatly setting it into her book bag, which was perched upon the bench seat she’d been sitting in. She moved to grab her quill from the table, accidentally allowing it to topple over onto the floor with a quiet clatter, but, when she moved to grab the offending object, her other hand knocked over the bag itself, the contents of which spilled out onto the floor in a crumpled heap. Hermione rolled her eyes and growled quietly. Today was just not her day. She grabbed her bag and set it on the floor in order to clean up the mess that was her school work when a brown haired boy with a failed attempt at a bowl cut wearing Gryffindor colors kneeled down, shuffling papers into a neat stack in order to help. She looked up to the boy and muttered a quick thanks, still stacking her many tomes atop one another before shoving them deep into the satchel. 

The boy smiled, handing her the papers he’d collected and standing up. “Nice to meet you, Master Slytherin.”

Hermione looked down sheepishly, scooping up her backpack almost as an afterthought. “Hermione, please. We’re not in class. Nice to meet you too, um… Seamus?”

“Tha’s right.” He shrugged, letting out a chuckle before beginning to speak in rapidfire, which brought out his slight accent. “You’re the potions master. You would know my name already. Anyway, uh, I’ve notice tha’ you’ve been workin’ on a project here for a couple a weeks now, and… Well, I wanted ta give ya this.” Seamus dug into his unruly bag for a moment, rummaging through the papers it contained until he finally drew his arm out, revealing a yellow rubber duck that was now held in his hand. 

Hermione felt her eyebrows draw in close and her lips purse without meaning to. As quickly as she could, she schooled her look to one of passive curiosity. “A rubber duck. Um, thank you.”

Seamus laughed awkwardly before finally speaking, again without so much as a pause to make sure he understood his words properly. “Yeah, uh, me da works in computers. He’s a muggle, an’ he says tha’, when he can’t figure out what piece a the code is wrong, he explains it out loud to the duck. It works for him, an’... It just seems like ya could use it.” 

“Thank you.” She smirked, accepting the yellow bath toy before making her way out of the library in favor of the dungeons.

* * *

Hermione couldn’t believe that her Arithmancy issue had been so… simple, but, after she’d spelled her four poster shut and silent, it hadn’t taken long until she’d found that the formulae she’d chosen to use to insert herself into the equation had been incorrect. Once she’d realized that, it was as simple as it should have been in the first place. 

Now, with her answer, Hermione furiously stomped to her father’s office, sparks were flying from her hair like live wires forming a circuit. When she reached the gargoyle statue, she stomped her foot in utter frustration, realizing her father had never given her this semester’s password. “Merlin’s wrinkled bollocks.” She grumbled before stepping towards the stones and placing a hand on the aged granite. 

With more calm than she felt, she mentally commanded the castle to open the secret door. This was something that a descendant of the founders could do instinctually, and her father could use this ability within minutes of waking up from his own familial transformation. However, hers had developed more slowly- only allowing her access to secret doors within the last month. Before that, she could only light fires and torches. She’d seen her father do many other cool things like creating doors or archways from nothing, and she was secretly excited to find out what sort of bond with the castle would manifest with her over time. For her current purposes, however, the doors would do. The statue shuddered to life after a long pause, spiralling into a functional staircase in moments. Once it was finished moving, she tentatively stepped up the newly-formed steps. Upon reaching the landing, she moved to knock on the door, but, instead, it sprang open in front of her, revealing the imposing figure of her father. “Hello, Hermione.” He drawled boredly, stepping back to allow her through the portal.

A spark flew from her hair once again, already irritated by her father’s aloof attitude. “Father, I’d like to speak with you about those calculations we’d discussed a couple of weeks back.” She stated as civilly as possible before closing the door behind her more loudly than she’d intended.

Her father whirled around in a flash of black robes, irritably moving to sit behind his desk. “And, what have you made of your findings?” He asked stiffly, crossing his fingers in a pensive gesture before him. 

“You’ve been holding me back.” She accused petulantly, following to find a seat opposite the dark and intimidating Headmaster. “I don’t know why, but my magical core has been stabilized for years. Much earlier than it should have. Anyhow, I could have been working with my gift… practicing my affinity for… years.”

Severus blinked. The former potions master had clearly expected a larger reaction from his often explosive progeny. “So, perhaps, you finally understand why I’ve been encouraging you to practice other magics.” He paused, his voice softening and body visibly relaxing just a touch with the revelation. The Headmaster was clearly relieved by his daughter’s mature reaction to the situation at hand. “Daughter, this may not be as much of a danger as originally presented, but…”

“But, what?!” Hermione shouted finally, standing up so abruptly that her chair toppled over behind her. “Father, didn’t you hear me? There’s no danger! Just let me do this, already. I know what I’m doing. I was literally born to do this!”

Severus’s features tensed as quickly as they relaxed a moment ago, and shook his head sadly before quietly replying. “It’s amazing how the most brilliant witch of her age can be so boorishly stubborn. Hermione, you’ll only be a child once. Ley lines can be dangerous, and I will not allow any harm to come to you under my watch.”

Hermione was shaking, body filled with adrenaline, urging her towards fight or flight. She’d never fought with her father over something so strongly before, always giving in under the pressure to please the only parent she’d ever truly known. “I will find someone with a stable core willing to ground me, and I will be manipulating the leys, father. This is absolutely ridiculous. You know I will take every precaution in order to avoid…”

“Hermione!” Severus shouted in a no-nonsense tone, which left no room for argument. “When a ley master or mistress works with another… The person that grounds them...”

Her father paused, unable to form the words. Hermione had never seen him in such a state before, and, thus, lost her waning patience quickly. “Well, out with it, then.” She urged.

“Hermione, you’re likely to create a soul-bond- unbreakable, permanent links to another being. I don’t…. I’m not…” Again, her father stumbled over the words, leaning forward on his desk in such a way that prepared him for any outcome. 

Hermione slammed her fists onto the Headmaster’s desk, accidentally conjuring flames in her anger. The flames petered out quickly without any intervention, but it was already too late. The damage had already been done, leaving singe marks upon the storied wood. She looked to her father, and he was hastily dampening the flames from his dark robes. He looked up with a glower now angry himself, breaking his detached  façade . “You’ll be serving one week of detention with Filch, young lady. Now, get out of my office. Come back when you’re ready to discuss this with a level head.”

Tears were in her eyes in an instant, and it was all she could do to keep them from spilling over before she could run out of the office, embarrassed and ashamed by her outburst.


End file.
